The Mark of Merlin
by Spherical Zenith
Summary: Enter Durmstrang Institute, where Henry, Paola and Sadie are about to start their first year. Strange things are happening, and the three children, neither of whom signed up for any of it, suddenly finds themselves in the middle of it all.


**Chapter One**

_Hag's Haven_

\- Henry -

I'm awoken by a muffled howl. An enormous brown owl is sitting on my chest, starring intensely at me. It is sticking its right leg into my face. A letter is fastened to it. I untie it, yawn, and unfold the parchment. I'm about to read it when I hear an excited scream from the room next to mine. A moment later the door bursts open, and my sister comes galloping into my room.

"Henry! Have you got it too?"

I instantly know what she means and open my eyes wide, first now waking properly. I let my eyes sweep swiftly over the elegant letters:

_Dear Henry Archer, this letter is sent to you concerning your forthcoming year at Durmstrang Institute. You are to be at the London Meeting Place tomorrow, the sixteenth of August, from where you will be guided to the school. Books are to be lent at the school, while fur robes and blood red clothes, parchment, ink and quills are required bought. You are also free to bring a pet (as long as it weighs less than three tons). Gibberish Goldfish!_

_Yours sincerely,_

_Professor N. GlooMillian, headmistress at Durmstrang Institute._

"Oh," I say, a smile forming on my lips. "Yeah, I have."

Charlotte climbs up in my bunk bed. "Hey, I know you!" she exclaims, looking indignantly at the owl. "You're the one who ate my sandwich!" The owl swifts nervously on its feet, and Charlotte pushes it towards the open window next to my bunk bed. It tumbles out, shrieking. I watch as it tries to regain control over its wings. It succeeds the moment before it would otherwise have hit the ground. With a forceful beat of the wings, it disappears.

"Don't trust him, Henry," Charlotte says, shaking her head warningly. I promise her to keep that in mind, and start rereading my letter. An excited feeling is burbling in my stomach.

"Come on, we're going to Hag's Haven!" Charlotte says, pulling me with her. I dress, and together we run down to the kitchen. Our mother is sitting at the table, absorbed in the Dailey Prophet. She raises her head as we enter, beaming at us. "Got your letters, then?"

I nod, looking at Charlotte. She's silent for a moment, and then starts babbling loose about Durmstrang. I don't hear a word of what she's saying, though. I'm thinking of the year to come. It's my first year at Durmstrang. Charlotte is about to go for her third. She has talked about it non-stop all summer, telling me about all the amazing stuff I'm going to see. Our mother has had to keep her from revealing everything. It's almost as if she's more excited about me starting at Durmstrang than me. Almost. I'm very excited. One of the things I look most forward to is getting a wand. I remember when Charlotte got hers. She wouldn't leave it out of sight, wandering around with it, showing it to everyone who wanted to see it and, unfortunately, also everyone who didn't want to see it. Our mother had to take it from her, because it kept erupting in sparks because of her excitement ("You are not allowed to use magic outside school!"). Doing this made the wand send out an explosion of hot red sparks right into her face. She still has a little white scar on her chin, which she hasn't been able to remove. Our mother wanted us to go to Hogwarts, the school she went to when she was young, and almost everyone in the United Kingdom goes to, but our father's last wish was for us to go to Durmstrang Institute, where he had been as a child. He died when I was five years old, fighting a banshee who had lost her voice. She heaved a mandrake from her cloak, and the scream killed them both. "A noble death," our mother told us.

"You'd better get off to Hag's Haven, then," our mother says. "I assume you're going to need a lot of things, Henry?"

"'E's 'oing teh get 'is _aunt_," Charlotte says, her mouth stuffed with sandwich.

"Oh, that's right!" our mother exclaims. I frown, then getting it. I'm going to get my wand. "You'll need some money. Lets see - _accio galleons_!" Something is clinking at the door leading to the living room. Our mother waves her wand, and the door swings open. A bunch of galleons comes flying into her outstretched hand.

"Ooooh, I hope we get to learn that this year!" Charlotte says, having swallowed the last bit of the sandwich.

We take Hildy's Hot Air Baboon to Hag's Haven. Hildy is an old witch with a disfigured face. According to the rumours, it happened when she once tried to prevent her pet slug suffocating in the braces she'd just placed on its teeth. I don't know how that would make her face that creepy. I don't think the braces just ricocheted into her face. That most certainly couldn't have done such damage to her face.

Our mother summons the Baboon. You have to use magic, and since me and Charlotte can't, she does. "_Hail, Hildy!_" she mumbles, and a distant whistle becomes increasingly louder. I look up. A gigantic baboon is floating right over us.

"Step aside!" someone cackles from above. We do as the someone says, and that in the last moment. A big bucket hit the ground with a loud _wham_. We say goodbye to our mother and climb into the bucket. It takes off, and we _whoosh_ up, suddenly at the bag of the Baboon.

"Greetings, dear Archers, where are you going today?" Hildy says in a voice sounding just as withered as she looks. An extreme under bite makes her scarred face look even more grotesque. I've seen her loads of times. It's mostly underage wizards and witches who fly with her. And then people who haven't passed their apparition test or somehow is prevented apparating. This time, it's just us, Hildy and a smelly old wizard in pink robes.

"Hag's Haven," I say.

"Ooooh, I suppose you are starting at school?" she says, a smile twisting her face.

"Yeah," I say, grinning. I like Hildy a lot.

The smelly wizard rummages in his pocket, his head almost disappearing into it. Then he grunts in a pleased sort of way, reappearing with a handful of something silver. It's wriggling so badly that he drops one. It's a spoon. It jumps wildly towards the side of the Baboon, an almost inaudible whine coming from it: "jumpy, juuuump!". Just as it is about to take a last, big jump over the edge, the wizard mumbles "_accio speak-o-spoon_". The spoon whimpers shrilly as it flies into the wizard's hand.

The wizard turns to us. "Speak-o-Spoons, made 'em meself! Only fifteen sickles a piece!"

"Oh, no thanks," Charlotte says.

"Erg, yeh don't know what yeh're sayin', kiddo" he says, sticking a squirming spoon up to Charlotte's face.

"Let the youngsters be, McPuke," Hildy cackles.

"'Ll right, then," he mutters, looking grumpy.

"Hag's Haven," Hildy says, stopping the Baboon. "Enjoy yourselves!"

We thank Hildy, who makes our bucket drop. When we've _whooshed_ down, we crawl out of the bucket.

"Wouldn't mind if Hildy found another way transporting us down. These drops make me sick," Charlotte moans.

"Me neither," I say. I look around. The street is swarming with witches and wizards. We are in a residential district. Big colourful houses are surrounding us. Some houses are even floating over the others, because there isn't enough space for them. I wonder if the people living in them can feel the house move in the wind from inside. Because every time a gust of wind comes, the houses are being pushed a little. Some times they hit each other, and the windows clink loudly.

We are visiting Mr Morron first thing to get my wand. Mr Morron is a very big intense wizard.

"Wands!" he roars, as we enter the shop. "A very fine art indeed!" He is staring at me, eyes wide with insane enthusiasm. "Hogwarts?"

"Er - no, Durmstrang," I say, slightly overwhelmed.

"Oh, fine school, indeed, fine school!" he bellows, right into my face. I have to force myself to keep from stepping back. "I'm sure we're going to find something quite fitting for you, my boy!"

He stomps behind the counter, rummaging in an enormous box. He returns with a long ruler, and start measuring. I feel like some living building.

"Oh, I know just the one for you!" he says, finding a very short wand. "Try it, boy!"

I wave it, feeling stupid. Nothing happens.

"Try to think about something happy and then do it again!" Mr Moron roars.

I try to think of starting at Durmstrang, and wave the wand. A yellow spark erupts from it.

"Excellent! I knew it! Just the one!"

I'm astounded over not having to try more. When Charlotte got her wand, she tried at least a dozen. I look at her. She shrugs, clearly thinking of the same.

"Eleven galleons, if you would please!"

We pay and leave the shop. My wand is in an oblong wandbox I got for my birthday from our mother. It fits in perfectly. I look forward to get to use it. Next thing we go a Mr Quirky's to buy ink, quills and parchment. Mr Quirky's is a cosy little shop run by a very nice witch who always gives us a Lollipuppy when we come, and this time is no exception. When we're done in Mr Quirky's, we go to Susan's Suitable Stuff to buy my robes. When we enter the shop, a tall person greets us. I can't see if it's a witch or a wizard. He or she has short bluish grey hair and is wearing the biggest boots I've ever seen.

"Hogwarts?" the person asks.

"Uh, no, Durmstrang," I mumble. There surely must be some British people going to Durmstrang?

"Oh, how exciting!" the person says, beaming. "I went there myself! Most of my costumers go to Hogwarts. I also have a few Tiaffe Imaginarium students, but I rarely get Durmstrangers. Ha ha. Durm-strang-ers. Got it? Oh well, I suppose you want to buy robes. It's still blood red clothes and fur robes, am I right? I've got some somewhere. Long time since I've got Durmstrangers. Ha ha. Really, Durmstrangers. How very funny of me. Ha ha." The person chuckles as he or she goes to get robes for me.

"Was that a witch or a wizard?" Charlotte asks, looking bemused.

"I don't know, was asking myself the same," I say. "Isn't there any other British students at Durmstrang?"

"Oh, yes," Charlotte says. "I suppose that there are loads of robe shops. When I was here to get mine, it wasn't this weird, er, witchard who kept the shop. I'm sure I would have remembered it if I had met this one." She rolls her eyes.

"What was that Piaffe Imagination thing?" I ask.

"Another school, I suppose." Charlotte says. "There are plenty of them, spread over the world. Do you think they have witches and wizards on other planets?" she wonders.

At that moment, the weird "witchard" arrives, carrying a heap of furry and blood red clothes. I notice, that his/her head almost scrapes the ceiling.

"Well, Durmstranger, then it's just trying the robes on! Durmstranger, ha ha."

Finally we're done shopping. We go for a Jelly Juice at the Hot Harpy, our favourite café in the entire village. We've tried them all, but The Hot Harpy has by no compare the best Jelly Juice. The café's stuffed with people today. A big crowd of children enjoying bottles of Jelly Juice, laughing and talking. Three very old witches sitting close together in a corner, discussing in muffled voices, one of them occasionally peering over her shoulder.

It's evening when we arrive at home. A kind wizard helped us summoning Hildy's Hot Air Baboon back in Hag's Haven. We eat dinner and go right to bed. I want to get a good night's sleep for tomorrow. But when I lie in bed, I find that I can't. I'm too excited. I smile when I hear footsteps outside the door. This time, opposite in the morning, the door is open opened carefully. Charlotte climbs into my bunk bed.

"Can't sleep, either?" she whispers.

I shake my head no.

We lie for a while, staring up at the ceiling.

"Henry?"

"Yeah?"

"Nothing."

"Okay," I say, smiling vaguely. It's something we've done for as long as I remember. Just wanting to confirm that we're really both here.

I begin to feel a little sleepy.

"Charlotte?"

"Yeah?"

"Nothing."

"Okay." She's grinning now. So am I. And somehow we can't stop. And then suddenly I can, because a feeling of fondness overwhelms me. I'm so fond of having such a nice sister (even though she can be a bit talkative sometimes). And tomorrow I'm starting at Durmstrang. It's all so amazing. But it's okay it's first tomorrow. Right now I'm just tired.

**So, here's the first chapter. Should I continue this story? I have about three unfinished chapters that I will publish if anyone bothers reading this :)**


End file.
